


Savour

by Anarchyinplasma



Series: Yorkalina snippets [5]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 08:42:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8006122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anarchyinplasma/pseuds/Anarchyinplasma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carolina and York both hate mornings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Savour

**Author's Note:**

> Not much to say this time, hope you enjoy guys.

York loves his soulmate tattoo, it's a gorgeous swirling curve of flame, leaving his wrist wrapped in emerald fire, the gentle fading accents go from a deep green from the depths of the purest stone all the way up to the bright piercing green of a shade that he sometimes thinks emeralds would kill to even be compared to. Encircling the gorgeous tongues of flame lining his wrist are elegant red threads, they aren't a part of the tattoo, they're what comes from having Carolina lie on his arm all night.

The woman in his arms rolls over, silky red hair spilling over the pillows as she turns to face him, her eyelids slowly flutter open and York feels his gaze locked onto her eyes, like his tattoo they're a deep vibrant green, they almost glow in the dim lights of their bedroom and York just can't look away. His fingers lazily card through her molten hair and play idly with the ends of the strands, Carolina leans back into his touch and hums in satisfaction as his fingers continue their work. She closes her eyes and inhales a deep breath of air, taking in York's unique scent, a hint of gun-metal and WD40.

Very slowly, and very deliberately, she leans in to kiss him, running her tongue across his teeth to memorise that little hint of metal that came from York holding a pick in his teeth as he worked on a lock. It's been so many years since she had that, but her tattoo never lost colour, and so she never lost hope.

A knock sounds at the door and Carolina groans, flopping boneless back into the bed and into York's arm. She knows exactly who that is, Tucker saunters by every morning to try and convince her to sleep with him, thinking he's some kind of ladies man. So far she's been able to restrain herself, but this is not her answering the door, it's York before he's had his morning coffee; and if Tucker yells out a pick up line before the due is answered as normal, she's not sure if she'll be able to keep York from holding him down and rearranging his facial features with a chainsaw (she willfully forgets that's a threat he learned from her).

York locks eyes with her and they don't need their bond for him to know what information she's conveying to him. He drags himself out of bed, fingers ghosting on Carolina's cheek as he makes his way over.  
“Hey baby, come on, why so shy, you know you want a piece of this beast!” Echoes from outside the door, and Carolina rolls over to bury her face in York's pillow with a soft despondent thump, wondering how she'll explain the death to Kimball. Before deciding she doesn't care.

York grabs the loaded firearm on their dresser and makes his way to the door, bare feet shuffling along the threadbare carpet. Carolina looks up to see what's about to happen, and notices with a degree of irony that he's wearing a shirt from his favourite Grifball team, Hellhound. It certainly resembles what he's like before coffee. The former freelancer wrenches the door open sharply. Provoking a scream from its metal hinges. The girly scream that Tucker lets out is worthy of YouTube. York takes one look at the quivering mess in front of him before grumbling and heading back to bed. Carolina has just gotten comfortable in his arms again when a the phrase  
“What, you scared of my competition?” Is shouted through the wall.

This time it's Carolina who drags herself from bed, wrenching open the door and wasting no time in delivering a punch to Tucker's jaw that puts him through the wall behind him and into the next corridor. Through the hole Wash meets her gaze and takes one look at the blazing eyes of his boss before grabbing Tucker by the scruff of neck and hauling him off to the infirmary to get his broken jaw reset. Carolina slams the door hard enough to shame the walls before crawling back into bed with York. He gives her a quick kiss as she settles into comfort again.  
“The old through the wall trick?” All he gets in response is a sleepy “mmmhmm” from the redhead, so all he does is chuckle and complement her diplomacy skills.


End file.
